Author's Notes:

-Does that town have a name? The one they go to every now and then to shop and stuff... I don't know! I'm not sure I care much either! Dammit, Jim; I'm the author here, not a- ...yeah. But really, is it called Magix, or is the dimension called Magix, or am I going to lose sleep until I look it up?

-Regardless of what the town is called, it's also going to be slightly different. Creative liberty again! Also it's because I don't know much about the town anyway!

-As before, Selwyn is my character.

The last days of his holiday had passed. Palladium made his way through town feeling decidedly worse than when he had left for the holidays. He had kept quiet about it so it would not give Selwyn cause to worry, but he had a sinking feeling that it might come to affect his teaching after all. He had come prepared with his elixir, found his pipe and was now hoping that he could keep his problems to himself around those who were more likely to pry into them. He met one such person whilst walking through the square. Griselda was sitting on the edge of the fountain drinking something she had bought from a nearby cafe; she had presumably arrived a day or so before him and therefore had little to do on a cold but sunny Thursday morning than wait for the new term to start. When she saw him she stood up and went over, falling into pace beside him.
"Did you have a good holiday, Palladium? Any friends dragging you to places you didn't want to go?"
"None of that, luckily. You?"
"Everything was very quiet as everyone else was busy, away or working."
Her eyes flicked down towards his arm, which he was holding stiffly against his side. He was carrying everything on his left and as she knew him to be a right-handed person, it looked rather unusual. He shifted his arm slightly and said,
"I see you've noticed my ...injury, of sorts."
"What happened?"
"I can't really say. It was... A unique occurrence."
"Have you had it seen to?"
It seemed that no one thought he was responsible enough to take care of his injuries by himself.
"I haven't needed to."
"So it's not that bad?"
"I don't believe so."
Griselda knew that once his answers became closed off, it was a good time to change the subject. She brought up the topic of gardening to see if it would lighten the mood, and it did. Not entirely, but it was better than walking back to Alfea in silence. Palladium seemed subdued for some reason and she assumed that something had happened at home during the holidays. Something involving that injury he seemed so tetchy about. It would explain why he was so unwilling to talk.

As they walked the main path through the forest, Griselda kept a close watch on Palladium. He looked normal enough, even with his arm injured. It was only when they arrived at the school that she noticed any real difference in his behaviour. He was usually keen to find out if there was anything he had missed and what he could do in preparation for the new term, but now he seemed reluctant to mention anything work related at all. Perhaps he was worried about how he would keep his injury concealed. Though he had shown more self-confidence lately he could easily have slipped into the mindset of believing that showing weakness could lose him the respect of his colleagues and students.

The short flight of stairs that led to the male teachers' corridor had never felt so tiring to climb. He had not realised how stiff he was in his right side but it became very obvious that he was virtually pulling himself up the steps. His arm throbbed as he moved and he reflexively shifted his shoulder to relieve it. As he had many times over the past few days he felt pain shooting through him, from his fingertips to his neck. He flinched, pausing on the stairs and leaning on the banister for support. And then he froze. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement. Shadows. As though it were the middle of the night and the blackness that had stalked him in the forest had followed him to Alfea. He felt himself grow unsteady as his heart rate increased, remembering his previous encounter with this phenomenal creature. He could hear nothing of the rest of the school; only a noise that sounded akin to wheezing or rasping as the shadows pulsated. Though he had his back turned he felt certain that a fine tendril of smoky black had been extended from the darkness and was reaching out for him. To touch him. Perhaps it would slip itself through his hair and round his neck, or just stab straight into his back. He could not see it, but had the distinct feeling that it was there. After a few moments of standing there, watching and waiting anxiously, he became aware that he had been standing motionless on the stairs for almost a full minute. Then he felt something twitch behind his head. He whipped round to face it and like the smoke of a snuffed out candle, the shadows melted away until the corridor was once again flooded with light. The rapidity of this change was enough to make him doubt that he had seen anything at all.

He stood there for a moment, steadying himself and willing his heart rate to slow to a more reasonable pace, but it spiked as he heard footsteps in the corridor ahead. Unwilling to be caught frozen in fear on the stairs, he dragged himself to the top. He was met there by Wizgiz, who seemed more energetic than usual - if such a thing was possible. The sudden irrational fear he had felt left him feeling uncomfortable as it drifted away, but it was soon replaced with mild irritation at his colleague's good mood.
"How much caffeine have you had today, Wizgiz?"
"Not that much. I've just come back from a high energy environment so I just need to get used to the normality. And I may have been in a high energy environment, but I can tell when my friends are quieter than usual." There was little he could say in response to that.
"What's the matter with you, friend?"
"I'm fine."
Wizgiz, as expected, did not seem satisfied with that response.
"You don't seem very happy."
"I'm fine!"
His insistence on the matter was enough that a change of subject seemed to be the best course of action.
"So did you do anything interesting during your time at home?"
"Not really."
It was at this point that Wizgiz noticed the way in which Palladium was standing. He had his satchel on his left shoulder, his trunk in his left hand and his sword was tied up and tucked into his belt, as Faragonda did not like weapons to be worn ready for use in school. He seemed to be keeping all of his weight off his right side.
"No training injuries?"
Here, Palladium tensed visibly and his response was as stiff.
"Not quite."
"Well, whatever it is I'm sure you'll be right as rain soon."
He knew when his questions were being evaded, and decided to take the easy route out. He started down the stairs and called over his shoulder,
"I'm headed to the staffroom, and if you want to find me after you've unpacked I'll probably still be there."
He received no response. Palladium had already stalked off towards his room.

Once in his room the last thing he felt like doing was unpacking. He put his sword away safely and put his satchel by his desk, where he then sat down. As he returned the contents of his satchel to their proper places on the desk he noticed a fine layer of dust that had settled there in his absence and muttered a charm to clear it. He would turn a blind eye towards the dust that had settled throughout the rest of the room for now. Next he examined the plants growing across the ceiling. They needed little care other than watering when their soil dried out and a small dose of supplementary minerals that he formulated himself to compensate for not growing them in their natural environment. Momentarily forgetting the injury he had been intensely aware of up to that point, he reached up with his right arm to pluck off a dead leaf that was glaringly obvious from where he stood. He could feel his joints complain at the exertion and sighed, bringing his arm down carefully. The pain that had been a dull throb was swelling to a sharp ache, and he remembered the mistake he had made during the holiday. Small tasks, no matter how trivial, had to be considered carefully before attempting to perform them right-handed. He reached up again, this time with his left arm, and removed the offending leaf. To his relief, he felt no surge of pain. Whatever was causing this had not spread further than his shoulder. Though it was such a small matter it gave him cause for serious alarm, as restricted mobility could well have an impact on his teaching. Admittedly, the impact would not be one that he could not live with, but after he had worked so hard to seem more confident any hint of fragility would shatter the illusion. More to the point, he should not have felt much pain at all, as he clearly remembered taking his elixir that morning to combat any trouble the injury would give him whilst transitioning between places. He would have to increase his dosage.

Eventually, he turned his mind from these troubling thoughts and made a start on unpacking. Not that there was a lot to unpack, but he felt unusually tired and was glad that he had organised his work while he still had the energy. Looking at the time he realised that it was lunch time. He stopped halfway through hanging up a coat that he had bought a long time ago on his travels and idly examined the cuff of one of the sleeves, deliberating between going downstairs to eat and staying upstairs to conserve strength, and eventually decided that he would have to face the rest of the school at some point anyway and that he would rather it be on his terms. He hung the coat up and began to think of ways he would explain away his apparently obvious injury. Above the coat, on a shelf, he put his travelling cloak. The two had seen him through all types of weather and situation, and merely having them in his room made him feel more prepared for anything. The obvious explanation he could give was that he had managed to damage his dominant arm whilst training, as Wizgiz had thought. This would not account for anything else though. His exhaustion, for that was what it seemed to be turning into, could not be explained. He wanted the explanation to be believable without setting himself up to seem compromised, but he struggled to think of anything that fit that criteria. On the way downstairs he realised that he was under no obligation to explain it in the first place, and that whatever had happened to him in his time was his business.

When one was tired, Palladium decided, interaction in large groups became very unfavourable. Lunch was fine for the most part, but when the questions about holidays were directed towards him his vague and elusive answers attracted more questions from someone he really would have preferred not to be questioned by. As he left the dining hall, Faragonda stood and followed him out. He waited in the corridor, resigned to the fact that this conversation would be unavoidable.
"Is there something bothering you, Palladium?"
There it was.
"Nothing at all."
"Has something happened while you were away?"
"No."
"...You seem a little different."
"How so?"
"...Just different. Have you had that looked at?"
She gestured at his arm, and he knew that his business was rapidly becoming hers.
"I have seen no need to do so."
The coldness of his reply confirmed for her that there was definitely something wrong. Palladium could see that she had come to that conclusion as her expression of curiosity shifted to one of concern. In an attempt to salvage the situation he continued on,
"It hurts, but I can cope with it. I... I do not understand quite what caused it, but I am certain that it is manageable."
He hoped that by explaining the situation to her it would reduce her already mounting concern. She seemed to be considering his response carefully, and he reminded himself of her reputation as an 'all-knowing' sort of headmistress. Faragonda was the sort who could tell just by looking what sort of problem she was facing, and if she decided that what he had claimed did not match what she saw there would be no hiding his problems.
"Keep me informed."
Then it was too late. At least it was only Faragonda that he would have keeping an eye on him.

The next day saw the arrival of Avalon, who turned up slightly later than expected due to Paladion business overrunning - a common occurrence, according to him. He seemed to be much brighter than he had been at the end of the previous term, and less skittish. There were still hints of distrust in his expression when he thought that no-one could see and there were still moments when he felt uncomfortable in his environment, though he would never have admitted it. For Palladium, the arrival of his new friend brought as much stress as relief. He would have a distraction from whatever his injury was turning into, not only for himself but for everyone else. If he spent time around Avalon people would not look too closely at him, and he could avoid thinking about it himself. The stress was nothing to do with the awkward revelation he had received last term, courtesy of Wizgiz, but was instead to do with how he would explain his problem to someone who was bound to notice and take an interest, and potentially think less of him for it. Fortunately, Palladium's concerns had been unfounded as Avalon had been discrete in his questioning and his unobtrusive attitude had allowed for the whole matter to be explained with little discomfort.

One small detail Palladium had decided not to mention was the elixir he had made for himself. He felt that explaining the situation had been enough and that anything else was just more for his friend to worry about. On top of that, he knew that Avalon would disapprove of taking anything so strong without the approval of a medical professional.